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Poems by Adults

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

by Martha M. Feliciano, 2024

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner 

Poetry, essay, story, play 

I’m not sure which way to sway. 

Make it shorter, make it longer 

Not sure which way will be stronger. 

 

In the future or in the past 

Which one is the best to cast? 

Which to choose, I know, Wow! 

I’ll make it in the present, Now! 

 

Will it be love, or an adventure? 

Just not sure which way to venture. 

Pride, or greed, or virtue true 

Still not sure which one to do. 

 

And to the characters, should they be 

Happy, sad, or just angry. 

Should they be really good, or really bad? 

Or maybe they’ll just be half mad? 

 

Now I’m thinking as to whether 

They should even be together. 

Away these two could be carried 

Maybe even to get married. 

 

Is it really such a crime 

If my story’s not done on time? 

Should I leave my story due to time 

Behind and change it all to rhyme? 

 

I’ll start again, I’ll watch the time, 

Yes, I’ll make it up in rhyme. 

OK, I’m ready to start again, 

Oh, my goodness, where’s my pen? 

 

So, I look both far and near 

There it is, behind my ear. 

Now for my glasses a search is lead 

Yes, that’s right they’re on my head. 

 

I’m settled in, ’bout to begin 

On my face there is a grin. 

Getting ready, about to see… 

Can’t believe, I gotta pee? 

 

Yes, I know it’s not a crime 

If this isn’t done on time. 

At least I know I can’t get fired 

‘Cause finally I am retired. 

 

Finally, all settled in 

Then my clock starts chiming in, 

“Read the plaque upon the wall. 

Where it says for one and all. 

In this home there are no winners, 

If they don’t get their chicken dinners.” 

 

The clock ticks off, as if to say 

Not to waste your day away. 

Wasting time with indecision, 

just get started in that kitchen. 

 

I call out, “You’ll be just fine, 

All I need is one more line.” 

A voice calls back, “Don’t worry dear, 

I’ll get myself another beer.” 

 

I work and work on line by line 

Everything seems to go just fine 

And everything does seem to rhyme, 

But don’t forget to watch your time. 

 

On my leg I feel a paw, loudly now my cats do call. 

“You must know that it’s a crime not to feed your cats on time. 

In this home there are no winners, 

if we don’t get our chicken dinners.” 

 

When I called out one more time, 

“Not to worry, you’ll be just fine, 

All I need is one more line.” 

Then I heard the clock strike nine. 

 

Could someone else please be the winner? 

Just this time to get their dinner? 

Heaven help me if I’m wrong 

To have written until dawn. 

 

Ahh, I’m feeling a little stronger 

But can I hold out for much longer? 

Is it really such a crime, 

Just to search for one more line? 

 

Ohh, I know it’s getting worse, 

As I search for one more verse. 

I tell myself I’ll be just fine, 

If I can get just one more line. 

 

Tried to stop on the next day, 

but the words won’t go away. 

Haunted me, “you’ll be just fine, 

All you need is one more line.” 

 

Yes, I know it’s not a crime, 

If my work’s not done on time. 

But, my family’s getting thinner 

Should I start their chicken dinner? 

 

I hear a voice I know quite well, 

Coming through clear as a bell. 

“Eine Frau darf nicht vergessen” (a wife must not forget) 

“Um zu leben, muss man essen.” (To live, one must eat.) 

 

Kirche, Kinder, und die Küche 

(church, child, and the kitchen) 

Simply means to stop your bitchin’ 

And get back cookin’ in your kitchen. 

 

As the plaque says on the wall, 

There it states for one and all, 

“In this home there are no winners, 

If they don’t get their chicken dinners.” 

 

Now they say, “She is much thinner. 

She should have made their chicken dinner.” 

They hear my voice come from my grave, 

“What do you mean, I can’t be saved?” 

 

Surely it is not a crime, 

Not to have things done on time? 

I thought that I would be just fine. 

I just needed one more line. 

 

The people call, “She is a sinner. 

She should’ve made their chicken dinner.” 

Cause of death was not a crime. 

Death was due to too much rhyme. 

 

They hear my voice one more time, 

“Can I get off with just a fine?” 

The Cat Court hollered in this time, 

“Let the punishment fit the crime.” 

 

They thought and thought and did debate 

What would be a true fair fate. 

“Let the punishment fit the crime. 

Take away her one last line.” 

 

“Now it’s left to her decision, 

Can she truly now envision, 

That her life can be just fine 

Without finding one more line?” 

 

“Or will she lead a life of crime, 

Tellin’ her family they’ll be just fine 

While searching for that one last line. 

As her family gets much thinner 

Waiting for their chicken dinner.” 

 

As time did tell, and we all knew well, 

That the writing on the wall, stated there for one and all, 

“In this home there are no winners, 

If they don’t get their chicken dinners.’ 

After Dawn

by Anne Kelly-Edmunds, 2024

Blue-violet

dissolves into morning’s

shades of February gray

a backdrop

for skeletal trees

their buds-to-be

only a dream

Cats

by Courtney Harrington, 2024

Cats are marvelous creatures,

With their soft fur and cute features.

They run and play with delight,

Bringing joy and happiness day and night.

Their eyes, so bright and filled with mystery,

Hold secrets of ancient feline history.

They curl up in a cozy spot to rest,

Dreaming of adventures, they’re truly blessed.

Their purrs are like a melody,

A gentle hum that brings tranquility.

They rub against your legs, so warm and sweet,

Claiming you as their human, a bond complete.

Halloween

by Charlotte Heotis, edited by PM Heotis, 2024

The goblins are a comin’
They’re traipsing up my walk
Some look mighty ghoulish
Speaking in such a gibberish
They have unearthly grins
Some I’m sure are aliens
There’s animals and ghastly insects
And humans with grotesques defects
Fairies dancing on the lawn
Even a cavorting little fawn
Do you think this is all a dream?
Of course not, it’s just Halloween!

Awaken My Soul

by Charlotte Heotis, edited by PM Heotis, 2024

Awaken My Soul

Guide my ever thought and deed
Comfort me in times of need
Set my course upon the sea
Lay my path in step with thee

Awaken My Soul

Do not leave me at the great abyss
Take me to the precipice
Let me glimpse your plan for me
Then shift your winds and set me free
Should I from grace dare fall
Give me a loud awaking call

My Child

by Irene Cantor, 2024

Oh, to be a child again.

The ebb and flow of the days,

of the months…alas, of the years.

Soon it will be your turn, my precious one,

to take on the burdens and joys.

But for now, your life is soft and cuddly and protected.

Oh my child, my dear child.

If you could only remember these times,

Not only for the happenings,

but also for the feelings,

And deliver them to your own dear little ones.

Then the days and the months and the years will flow anew.

Oh, to be a child again.

Like Emotions

by Anne Kelly-Edmunds, 2024

Sun’s light spills

though glass panes,

their hardness nary a barrier,

shines on a dark newel post,

yet only for a moment,

then shifts, casts light

on a different part

of the banister,

leaving what once

was illuminated

to sit in shadow.

Winter

by Courtney Harrington, 2024

The days grow shorter, the nights so long,

An eerie hush, a mournful song.

The world seems frozen, devoid of life’s bloom,

A desolate landscape, shrouded in gloom.

In the stillness of winter, emotions run deep,

Loneliness overtakes , as hearts silently weep.

Memories of warmth and Summer fade away,

Leaving behind a longing for a bright and sunny day.

Untitled

by Charlotte Heotis, edited by PM Heotis, 2024

Grass in shades of green
Snowy fields sparkling sheen
Vault trees offering shade
Mountains giving way to mossy glade
Skies of blue and starry nights
Days of sun rays dancing bright
Morns of glistening dew
Noon’s of billowing drifting cloud
Earth made sweat by drops of rain
And hark to bird songs

The Dedicated Teacher

by Jamie Hettema, 2024

I found a little garden in a corner of my mind

It was full of tiny flowers of every imaginable kind

I noticed little buttercups so fragile on the ground

And busy water lilies floated all around

Bold sunflowers seemed to grow straight up to the sky

While carefree, happy daisies were just a little shy

Thorny, velvet roses didn’t let me get too close

And silly, yellow daffodils made me laugh the most

I wondered to myself, “Who cares for these so dearly?”

Then I saw the gardeners so diligent but cheery

They worked all day nurturing their tiny baby plants

They watered, trimmed and chased away annoying little ants

Carefully they pulled the weeds that might harm their precious buds

Never noticing the prickly thorns, the insects or the mud

Then one day, much to all the gardeners dismay

There wasn’t any water and the soil had turned to clay

The gardeners watched helplessly as their little flowers fell

”Can’t someone help us?” “Who can we tell?”

Our daffodils and roses will never be what they could be

And our daisies and our buttercups might even die you see

But no one came with water and no one seemed to care

No one had the answer, it was almost too much to bear

Then I saw a teardrop fall from one of the gardener’s eyes

It splashed upon a tender buttercup just about to die

And the fragile little buttercup who drooped so very small

Began to stand up strong and beautiful and tall

I noticed all the gardeners had teardrops on their cheeks

And it began to look as if it had rained for weeks

Every daffodil and Daisy, every rose and buttercup

Every sunflower and lily started perking up

Soon the entire garden was glistening in the sun

And I began to realize the battle had been won

Was this what tears of anger and despair and fear could do?

Could this really happen?  Could all of this be true?

Then I saw the joy on every gardener’s face

These were tears of love, of fear there was no trace

For when it was quite certain the gardeners should do no more

That’s when they so unselfishly gave more and more and more

The gift they gave was precious, one money could not buy

They gave so their little flowers could live and grow and thrive

Though they’ll receive no glory for all that they have done

All that really mattered was that they’d saved every one